A Different Note
by Angelic Sentinel
Summary: A series of drabbles and one-shot crossovers with Death Note the only constant. Chapter 5: Animorphs. I own no copyright to the characters contained within. On Hold
1. Excel Saga

_"This world…is corrupt!" Yagami Light said, sweeping his arms in a grandiose manner across the room, pencil in one hand, Death Note in the other as he stood on his throne in his costume, Misa-Misa and a cross-dressing L standing in front of him._

_"Yes, Kira-sama!" Excel said enthusiastically, her usual uniform in place, pigtails replaced with extensions and a braid."I mean Hail, Ilpalazzo!"_

_A mysterious drop appeared over Hyatt's head as he adjusted his breasts, coughed up some blood, and ate an apple tart. Finding Kira and the mysterious group of ACROSS was easier than could possibly be believed._


	2. Harry Potter

There was no break in the Kira case, and most of the force had been awake for a day or more. L sent everyone home to rest, stating that they would convene tomorrow to discuss any findings. He was starting to get frustrated over the lack of concrete evidence. He knew the man currently handcuffed to him was Kira. The odds just would not have it any other way, but he couldn't prove it. The situation was highly frustrating.

L lightly massaged his forehead where a rather distinctive scar used to be. Watari had it removed surgically when he was young. He couldn't remember much of his life before Whammy's House. Images occasionally flickered through, such as a whale-ish man and a horse-faced woman, but nothing concrete ever came through. It was odd. Generally his analytical mind had no use for fantastical whims, but last night what little sleep he managed was interrupted by a green light, a flying motorcycle and visions of a bouncing blond beach ball.

The odd thoughts led him to remember what had happened when he was eight, almost nine. That July, L had been going on a trip to Paris with his French tutor, for being immersed in a language always made it easier to remember, when his sharp mind observed an owl following him hesitantly. It appeared unsure of whether or not to follow him. After several days of following him and flying in circles, it flew off. It struck him as odd, for owls are generally nocturnal. He had no idea why he was thinking of that incident right now. Kira had the same illogical feeling to him (or her, but he figured it was _him_). How could someone kill without being close? Somehow, he felt that his dreams, the owl incident, and Kira were all interrelated. It was what made L's hunch about Light so strong. "90 percent sure," he remarked to himself.

What to do now? L asked himself.

His stubbornness and strong sense of justice would not allow him to quit the case. He would solve it, one way or another.

He popped another lemon drop into his mouth. Sugar always gave him energy and made him feel better. Without it, he felt lethargic and about to burst. L still wondered how he kept his lithe, slender form in light of his sugar consumption. He always said it was because the brain used the most calories, but he only used that as an excuse to garner a reaction from other people. He sighed, and shut his laptop. Time to get what little sleep his insomnia allowed him.

-

"Are you sure it is him?"

"Yes Minerva. He has all kind of muggle protection around him, but Dinky was able to pop in no problem. I fear that he has no idea he is magical. His sugar consumption is proof. His magic has no outlet and would tear him apart without him using his magic to metabolize all the sugar."

"Is that why you love sweets? Should we approach him? I told you what would happen if you left him with those horrible people."

"Well…"

-

L smiled as the old man explained everything to him. While it did not elucidate his Kira problem, he found that oddly enough, it fit.


	3. Dexter

**Warnings: Timeline, What Timeline? but with spoilers for Episode 25/chapter 58 of Death Note, and Season 2 of Dexter; Gore and Mutilation **

Dexter knew that Raito was a killer. He could see it in the sharp gleam of his narrowed eyes. He could see in his body language. He could see it in the way he awkwardly held himself apart from everyone else. He was a good actor, but not good enough to deceive Dexter. Raito was a true monster. Just like him. The young detective prodigy from the Japanese police force had transferred to Miami Metro Police Department in order to follow a lead on the so-called god "Kira." Kira was a conundrum. He killed within a strict moral code just like Dexter. Most had slipped through the justice system with technicalities and loopholes, never in custody. They thought they were safe. Just like Dexter's victims. Kira even had cult following like Dexter, or as the ever fickle media dubbed him, the Bay Harbor Butcher. He hated that name. Dexter felt sort of a kinship with Kira.

But, Dexter thought to himself, what were the odds that a Japanese man transferred to an American police department the same week that a Japanese serial killer started targeting criminals in America specifically? For supposedly being held as a genius, the boy was a careless narcissist, so confident that he was the only intelligent sociopath around. Another mistake he added to Kira's list.

First, it had been reacting to a broadcast targeted specifically at him. That proved his arrogance. Second, it was getting someone to kill for him. Dexter scoffed. What was the point of exacting justice if you didn't do it yourself? Now this. It would have worked better if Raito didn't come to the station where he was working as a blood spatter analyst. There was nothing worse than another male pissing and encroaching on your territory. And the insult to his intelligence. Two highly intelligent killers don't just appear out of nowhere in the span of a week. Dexter didn't believe in coincidences. He was 99% sure that Raito was Kira, leading the investigative team in circles. Figuring that out wasn't a proper challenge; all he needed to acquire was proof. He smiled. Time off and a flight to Japan under the name of Ted Bates was in order.

-

"Wha—? Where am I?" Raito Yagami looked up at the silhouette standing over him in horror.

"Welcome to my playground," Dexter said with anticipation.

Raito's eyes widened as he shook the confusion from his mind. He found himself in a plastic-covered room, on what appeared to be a metal table, arms and legs bound with plastic wrap and head strapped in. He was naked. "What are you doing? Who are you!" he questioned frantically, trying to clear the drugs from his system and get his wits together.

"Don't like getting your hands dirty, do you?" Dexter smirked.

"Dirty? What in the hell are you talking about?" Raito asked, his voice giving away the fear he felt as he realized the situation he was in.

"You are Kira. All evidence says so." Dexter fingered the scalpel he had in his hands, running his finger over the blade.

"Of course I am not Kira! He goes around killing people! How can you compare me to that murderous sociopath? I could never be capable of such an act!" Raito said, trying to convince this man using every bit of charisma he could muster up. "What evidence?"

"Now, now," said Dexter, ignoring his question for the moment, as he moved closer to the table, running the scalpel in his hands down Raito's right cheek, and placed the blood on a slide. "Tell the truth. This is your courtroom and I am the judge and jury. And I don't like liars."

"I…I am not," Raito said again, gasping as a pen knife carved the letter "K" in his chest. Where was Ryuk? He tried to move his hand to access the slip of paper he kept in his watch.

Dexter noticed this and grinned, a predatory expression that allowed Raito to fully realize the depth of the situation. There was no way of getting out of this. "You are. I don't know how you do it, but you're a killer. I have proof. I had to go out of my way to get it. You kill by writing." He held up Raito's Death Note. "Every confirmed Kira kill is in here. And you've murdered _thousands_. No use trying to deny it. By the way, I found a scrap of paper in your watch with a very interesting name on it. Kyosuke Higuchi. Wasn't he the third Kira? Not very bright to keep such damning evidence on you."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE AN ARBITER OF JUSTICE!" Raito roared, buckling underneath the pressure with a fanatical gleam appearing in his eye. "I do this, because the world needs it. The world needs to be free of murdering scum so a utopia can be created! I kill the ones who escape, who the justice system would let walk free to kill again!"

Dexter's smirk faded. "I do the same, killing people that escape the system. Like you, I'm a monster with morals. But a man doesn't like it when another man starts intruding upon his home and nosing in his business. And I don't kill innocents. I have standards." He carved an "I" into his flesh. Raito flinched.

"Innocents?"

"Like a certain world famous detective? Or should I say the top three world famous "detectives" and his agent. Please. Spare me the theatrics. They figured you out. And you killed them because you were stupid, arrogant, and afraid." Dexter carved an "R" into his chest.

"We could work together! We could be like brothers and create a utopia of our own!" Raito was really grasping at straws now, desperately doing anything to try to save his life. Dexter carved an "A" into his chest.

"I will, just this once, tell you how things will go. In about 30 seconds, I will stab a knife into your heart. I will remove your fingers first, and then I will systematically dismember your body, putting them into garbage bags. I will leave your torso and head in front of the police station. This is outside my _modus operandi_, but you are a special case, being so high profile…"

Raito jerked and squirmed under the plastic as Dexter drove the knife through his heart. As Raito lay there dying, he heard a whisper.

"I killed my brother."

A/N: This was supposed to be 100 words and more humorous. It got away from me by about 900 words. GAH!


	4. Superman

L shook his head. He honestly hadn't thought the case would be that easy. He expected a challenge.

Three days ago, he had been contacted by an unnamed black-haired reporter asking him if he would take on the biggest case of his career. There was another case he was interested in about a Japanese serial killer, but the sketchiness of the reporter's email piqued his curiosity. Intrigued, he sent an email back asking for details, but the determined woman wouldn't let out even a tiny bit of the information he wanted unless he came to meet her in person. Fearing that she was after his identity, he sent Watari out as a lure. However, it seemed that she was genuinely after his skills as a detective, so after he appropriately "bugged" Watari, he found out exactly what she wanted. He was surprised.

She wanted the identity of Superman.

L had smiled to himself. Her identity was clear enough after that admission. The reporter was Lois Lane, supposed flame of the world icon (according to the tabloids, at least) and it gave him a chance to do what he had wanted to do ever since he heard of the man: find out who, or what, he actually was. Not even a Superman could work 24-7.

Two days ago, Lois had allowed him to place bugs and small cameras in the bullpen, and some on the roof. With the man's supposed super hearing, it was amazing that Superman didn't pick up on it. L was 65% certain that he had, just that he didn't think it was a threat. What Superman didn't know is that these were hi-tech specialty cameras, capable of capturing 25 million frames per second by use of an electronic charge-coupled device imaging system. It far outweighed anything a tabloid or normal private eye could purchase. L was funded in part by the American government, after all.

During his electronic stakeout, he had picked up some interesting things; Clark Kent, especially. Although he slouched, he was over 6 feet tall, about 2 to 4 inches over, actually. He had black hair and a peculiar shade of blue eyes; although not uncommon, when crossed with his penchant for disappearing during Superman's visits, they made him a prime suspect. Superman also had black hair and a peculiar shade of blue eyes. Both had similar musculature. Superman was attracted to Lois, and apparently, so was Clark Kent. Superman's body language showed he was confident and self-assured. Clark's body language was all over the place. He would be ridiculously clumsy one moment and extremely graceful the next. Even if he never had the circumstantial evidence, the camera caught Clark Kent changing into Superman. He was 100% certain that Clark Kent and Superman were the same person. He had proof. All too easy.

One day ago, L put it all together. He sent Watari to the Daily Planet to inform Lois Lane of his findings (which were going to be a lie; Superman was a vigilante, not a criminal) while he disguised himself as Watari's nephew. As he walked by Clark Kent who was standing with a stack of files, he accidentally-on-purpose ran into him, causing his glasses to fall of his face. L handed them to him, noticing that they had no prescription, and appeared to be more like magnifying lens, focusing wide beams of light into smaller ones. He smirked.

"They aren't much of a disguise. It was _super_ easy to figure out."

Clark's eyes widened.

-

"And thanks to the help of Superman, the man known to the public only as Kira was put behind bars—" L clicked the "off" button of the television.

Today, L rubbed the bridge of his nose. In return for the safety of his secret, Superman wished to help him on his next case. L had asked him to provide surveillance on the family and members of the Japanese police force. Superman overheard Light Yagami ranting loudly about justice and who he was going to kill next. When those people died not moments later, Kira had been caught. He had a notebook in his possession with the names of his victims.

Case closed.

* * *

A/N: Continuity is really wherever you wish it to be for Superman. Death Note, somewhere in book one. I was really going for how ridiculously easy it is to figure out Clark's disguise, but again, it got away from me.


	5. Animorphs

My name is L.

No last name necessary. You may ask me why. We can't tell you who we are, or where we live. I wouldn't do that anyway, but I say it at the others' insistence. See, unbelievable as it is, aliens have invaded.

No, seriously.

After one of my cases (I am a detective in my spare time), I found myself craving some strawberry cheesecake. My assistant, W, was busy with the police department, so I planned on walking from the small hotel to the bakery in the mall. It was not more than a few blocks, so I figured it would be safe enough to walk. I found myself sorely mistaken. I was walking through an abandoned construction site, focused on my sweets, when I saw an unidentified airborne craft crash. I am naturally curious, so I changed course to head towards the site of the crash, determined to assuage my curiosity.

What I saw changed the course of my life. I was the only (nearly) adult present. Crowded around the crash were five children, about three to five years younger than I. I quickly categorized them in my head; two Caucasian males and one female, a Hispanic male, and an African-American female. Jake, Tobias, Rachel, Marco, and Cassie, as I later found out. They were surprised to see me, and were quite wary. I realize that my appearance is quite off-putting. Then I saw what was behind them, and knew they had a reason. A half-dead centaur-looking beast was behind them. We were told of the impending threat of invasion and were given our only effective weapon against the parasitic beings known as the Yeerks, the ability to morph. The rest is history.

Even at the tender age of sixteen, I had a reputation for being a famous detective. Thus, a large amount of resources were available to me. First, I acquired what the others called a "battle morph." For some strange reason, when I morphed in front of the others for the first time, they could barely contain their laughter. Was morphing a panda really that strange? I supposed it was yet another joke on my appearance. I knew I could not stay in one area for long, so I gave them a state-of-the-art computer, encrypted into my network. I also gave each one a cellular phone, with instructions to notify me if anything large was going to take place, or if they had any questions. Then I went on with my life.

Even for a genius, it was hard at first. I went on the first mission with them, barely getting Tobias to morph out before he became a _nothlit._ I was 53% sure he wanted to become a red-tailed hawk on purpose. It fit his psychological profile. I gave him a purpose. He became T, and assisted me worldwide both against the invasion and on my cases. I continued picking only cases I liked, occasionally returning to aid my fellow warriors against the invasion when needed. They called me their leader. I disliked it, but I admit that I am good at strategy and I hate to lose. It is a good combination for guerilla warfare. We made a fair amount of headway against the Yeerks, but not enough for my taste.

Then, Kira happened.

It was simultaneously the best and worst thing that could have happened to the people of earth. Our spies, the dog-loving pacifist androids known as the Chee, told us it was causing the Yeerks to run scared, figuring it a new development in Andalite technology. Wanting to find out more, I took the case. I figured out who it was, but never had absolute proof.

Then, I achieved another weapon against the Yeerks: The Death Note. As all Yeerks reproduce using fusion from three Yeerk parents, they all have similar bodies, just different names. As the first rule stated "The human whose name is written in this Note shall die," I tested it on the one name I disliked even more than Kira; Esplin 9466 Primary. The Chee confirmed it. The Death Note worked on any organic sentient creature. The tide of the war turned. I knew there was another out Kira out there, but that importance was unnecessary.

I had found the way to end the war.


End file.
